


The Phone Call

by Shaish



Series: Sagittarius [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, M/M, Phone Calls, long distance, long distance phone calls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 09:50:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14162178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaish/pseuds/Shaish
Summary: Some Ch. 33-34 crack





	The Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

> Just some crack Tatch and I came up with super late that doesn't quite fit in the main fic itself, but I had to post it somewhere XD

“ _What is she like?_ ” Oliver asks over the line, “ _Adeline_.”

Slade lays on his side on the motel bed, propping himself up on the elbow holding his phone to his ear. “Brown hair, blue eyes, doesn't take any of my shit."

Oliver’s silent for a moment, then, “ _...You have a type_.”

Slade grunts. "Shut up. Your hair isn't brown and your eyes aren't blue."

" _On the island it was brown because it was almost always wet, and my eyes **were** blue_ ,” Oliver counters.

They’re both silent for a minute.

“ _Shut up_ ,” Slade repeats, "You couldn't kick my ass then."

" _No, but I can now and now we're sleeping together_ ,” Oliver replies.

They’re silent again.

Slade feels his face warm just a little and ignores it. "Anyway-" he starts.

" _Don't change the subject_ ,” Oliver cuts him off.

 _Silence_.

Slade feels his face warm again and mutters, "What are you, my _wife?_ " then pauses, face growing warmer. The silence starts going awkward but he keeps quiet this time, knows better than to dig that hole deeper.

Another minute goes by, the tension in his shoulders growing tighter until he lowers his arm and hangs up, staring at his phone. He drags his eyes away and takes a breath.

Five minutes go by and the tension gradually eases out of his shoulders, even though he feels like an idiot for ending the call like some teenager, and then his phone rings, his eyes darting back to it. Oliver’s burner phone number flashes across the screen. Slade stares at it for another two rings before hitting ‘answer’ and raising it back to his ear.

" _Are you embarrassed_ ,” Oliver says.

"No," Slade grunts.

" _Are you sure_ ,” Oliver returns.

"I don't get embarrassed,” Slade growls out.

" _Are you sure?_ ” Oliver repeats.

"Stop pressing," Slade replies firmly.

" _You are embarrassed_ ," Oliver says.

Slade hangs up on him, staring down at his phone again. Oliver calls him back and Slade answers, bringing it to his ear a second time. "Why do you always press?" he asks.

" _Because you're embarrassed_ ," Oliver answers.

“I’m not-” Slade starts.

“ _Face it_ ,” Oliver cuts him off.

Slade blows out a sigh.

" _You're always telling me to face myself_ ,” Oliver says.

"This is not the same thing," Slade replies low.

" _Still applies_ ," Oliver returns.

Slade grunts quietly.

It’s quiet for a minute.

"I'm hanging up for real this time," Slade says after a short while.

" _Okay_ ," Oliver replies.

It’s silent.

Slade stares down at his hotel bed’s comforter, the green and red and tan crosshatch pattern, trying to figure out how to end the call, if he should first, or if Oliver should. Does it _matter?_

Five minutes tick by and he still doesn’t have an answer.

"Okay,” Slade grunts.

 " _Okay_ ,” Oliver agrees.

It’s silent again.

" _I thought you were hanging up_ ,” Oliver says.

"I am,” Slade replies.

" _When?_ " Oliver asks.

 "I _will_ ,” Slade returns firmly.

" _Okay_."

"Okay."

It’s silent.

"This is stupid," Slade grunts.

" _You're still on the line,_ " Oliver replies.

"So are you,” Slade counters.

It’s quiet again.

"I'm hanging. Up,” Slade states.

" _Okay_ ," Oliver replies.

 _Silence_.

"Oliver," Slade says after a minute.

" _Slade_ ," Oliver returns steadily.

 _Silence_.

" _I thought you were an A.S.I.S. agent_ ,” Oliver says after a beat, “ _Don't they teach you how to end phone calls?_ "

"I thought you were some master assassin, don't they teach _you?_ ” Slade counters.

" _We're not talking about me_ ," Oliver says.

"We are now,” Slade replies. The line _clicks_ and Slade stares at the wall for a second before lowering his hand and staring at his phone, the call ended. The screen goes dark.

 _He hung up_ , he thinks.

Slade calls him back and Oliver doesn't answer until the last ring. " _Slade,_ " Oliver says.

"You hung up," Slade replies, almost accuses.

" _You said you were going to and didn't, so I did it for you_ ," Oliver says.

"You- Stop,” Slade grunts.

 " _I did. But you called me back_ ," Olive replies.

Slade grunts again, lips flattening.

" _You want the last word?_ " Oliver asks.

"No, it's just- I don't know,” Slade admits, voice dropping and brows furrowing.

" _You do_ ,” Oliver replies.

"I don't know,” Slade repeats.

" _Why are you making this so hard?_ ” Oliver asks.

"Why are you?” Slade returns.

" _I'm not. I hung up_ ,” Oliver replies.

Slade _growls_ a little.

" _I'm hanging up this time_ ,” Oliver says after a beat.

" _Okay,_ ” Slade replies firmly.

It’s silent, just the sound of them breathing.

"You're still on-" Slade starts. The line _clicks_ again and Slade lowers his phone, frowning down disgruntledly at it. He opens up and sends a text:

_That's not when you hang up_

Oliver sends one back:

_There's no rules_

Slade taps out:

_How rebellious of you_

Oliver:

_I already went through that phase_

Slade:

_Are you sure_

Oliver:

_I'm not getting into this_

Slade:

_If you say so_

Oliver:

_I'm not_

Slade snorts, sends:

_Now who wants the last word_

Oliver:

_So you wanted the last word_

Slade’s lips twitch up and he sends:

_I guess so_

Oliver:

_You're doing this on purpose aren't you_

Slade:

_No_

Oliver:

_You are_

Slade:

_I'm not_

Oliver:

_You forget I know you better than most people by now_

Slade:

_Still not_

Oliver:

_Mmhmm_

Slade:

_I don't remember you being this deadpan_

Oliver:

_Well I've killed a lot of people_

Slade pauses, then:

_Did you just make a joke_

Oliver doesn’t reply for five minutes, ten, and Slade huffs a laugh that grows until he’s shaking with it.

He _did_.


End file.
